Chapter 5 - Interrogation and ConfessionsThe interrogation room at the Denver Federal Detention Center smelled of stale coffee and absolute desperation.
Michael sat across the steel table, his expensive Armani suit rumpled, his hair disheveled. The smooth, charismatic executive persona was gone, replaced by a sweating, frantic criminal staring down a life sentence for attempted murder, wire fraud, and conspiracy.
Across the mirror glass, in the observation room, I watched every second of it. Dmitri stood beside me, his arms crossed over his chest, watching the monitor with cold detachment.
"Look at the papers, Mr. Carter," the federal investigator said, slamming a thick stack of documents onto the table. "We have the wire transfers to offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. We have the encrypted text messages between you and Ashley detailing how you would split the fifty million after the 'accident' in Rocky Mountain National Park. And most importantly... we have your wife, alive and well, giving a sworn deposition."
Michael shook his head frantically, slamming his hands against the metal table.
"It's a setup! She's lying! The Sokolov family bought you off!" Michael screamed, spittle flying from his lips. "She's a manipulative heiress who staged the whole thing to frame me!"
Inside the observation room, I let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "He still thinks he can talk his way out of it."
"Let him scream," Dmitri said quietly, his voice smooth and steady. "A cornered dog barks the loudest right before the chain tightens."
Suddenly, the door to the interrogation room opened, and Ashley was escorted in by two female guards. She looked a mess—her makeup smeared, her designer dress wrinkled. She had been picked up attempting to board a private red-eye flight to Zurich with two passports and fifty thousand dollars in cash pulled from joint business accounts.
When Ashley saw Michael sitting across the table, her face twisted from panic into pure, venomous rage.
"You idiot!" Ashley shrieked, lunging across the table toward him before the guards pinned her shoulders back into her chair. "You told me the drop was foolproof! You said she was dead!"
Michael’s eyes widened in sheer panic. "Ashley, shut your mouth—"
"Shut up?!" Ashley screamed hysterically. "I'm not going to federal prison for twenty years while you pretend you were the victim! It was his idea!" she yelled at the detectives, pointing a shaking finger at Michael. "He planned the whole thing six months ago! He took out the policy, he chose the cliff, he pushed her! I just helped him launder the down payments!"
Michael turned on her, his face turning purple with rage. "You lying bitch! You wanted the money just as badly as I did!"
Through the glass, I watched the two of them tear each other apart. The grand alliance built on greed, betrayal, and attempted murder had shattered in less than sixty seconds.
I turned away from the glass, looking up at Dmitri.
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"Well," I murmured, resting my hand on my still-growing belly. "That was easier than expected."
"The easy part is over," Dmitri said, turning his gaze down to meet mine. His expression shifted, the cold mafia boss softening into something intensely protective. "Now comes the hard part. Protecting you and my future cousin from the people Michael was secretly laundering money for."
